


Today, I got a gift

by tokyoangel1000



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Gift Giving, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-02-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 22:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9927749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tokyoangel1000/pseuds/tokyoangel1000
Summary: John was not accustomed to getting what he wanted without having to work hard for it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written at three in the morning after several sleepless nights. Please excuse any errors I might have made, and I hope you enjoy regardless.

John was not accustomed to getting what he wanted without having to work hard for it. As a child he had witnessed his classmates being handed gift after gift at birthday parties, showing up to school with new bags and shoes at least once every year and always carrying around the latest gadgets.

John on the other hand always had to work for everything he wanted, even the things he needed. When he outgrew his school uniform his parents deemed a new one too expensive, and he had to run errands around the neighborhood to help pay for it. New shoes were out of the question unless the soles wore off completely, and he used the same bag to school for over six years.

He received his last birthday present from his parents when he was five years old. "You are a man now." That's what his father had told him on his sixth birthday when he had dared to question why he hadn't received a gift. "And men work for what they want."  
And work John did.

This is why John didn't say anything when he spotted the nice leather bag and journal sitting next to each other while out on a case with Sherlock. The criminal had apparently used a special kind of pen, which Sherlock had been able to track down to being sold in a specific shop in an even more specific part of London. An investigation of the shop was required, and it was during that investigation that John's eye caught the leather products placed neatly on a shelf. High-quality leather, hand-made and, most importantly, way too expensive for John's wallet.

He gave them a longing look, did the math in his head over and over again and tried to justify to himself that it would be a good idea to buy a new bag instead of patching up his old one for the fourth time in three months. That he could do with a decent journal for a change instead of scrappy old notebooks he got for a couple of pounds at a local corner shop. But in the end, he shook his head in an effort to rid himself of the idea. A retired army doctor living on what he could get from working at a clinic couldn't afford to get such nice things. He should spend his money on Rosie, who constantly required new clothes and age-appropriate toys. That should be his priority. Not himself. Never mind that the entire Holmes family had made it their job to look after Rosie's well-being. He was her father! She should always come first.

"I found the pen. Classic black fountain pen, but with a unique blend of ink. I knew which one it was as soon as I smelled it. I need to go back to Baker Street to analyze the pen further before giving my full report to Lestrade. John, are you listening?"

John snapped out of his thoughts to find Sherlock behind him, hand on his shoulder and an odd look on his face as he studied John's. Not wishing to seem upset in front of his partner, John ducked his head and grabbed Sherlock's hand in his own. "I am. Back to Baker Street it is then. Molly should be dropping off Rosie in about an hour or so anyway. Are we picking up Chinese on the way?"

Sherlock gave him a small nod, and the grasped his hand back firmly as they marched out into the street. In the cab, they bantered on as usual and Sherlock explained his theories while John showered him with praise. Soon, all thoughts of the bag and journal in the little shop had been erased from his mind.

 

 

"Sherlock! Please don't tell me the box in my chair contains more moldy body parts for your experiments, because if it does I swear I won't kiss you until your hair is gray and we are both dying of old age."

Sherlock gave an amused huff from his place in front of his microscope and resumed studying the rotten toenail on the slide underneath. "John, you know for a fact that I would never leave a box containing body parts of any kind anywhere near Rosie, who at the current moment happens to be only two meters away from your chair. I thought you would at least have learned to deduce the most basic facts by now as you usually are such a fan of stating them out loud."

John, used to being called and idiot in the most creative of ways by the Holmes family, chose to ignore the insult all together and instead turned his eyes back to the mysterious box still sitting innocently in his chair. "So you bought something for Rosie then? Or is it from Mycroft? Your parents? I swear to God, you will all spoil her rotten and you will regret it once she is old enough to verbally ask for things." His hands were already on the box though, stripping away the tape and flaps sealing it shut. "I am grateful Sherlock, I really am, but you always give Rosie everything-"

His hands stopped and fell to his side. For in the box lay the bag and journal he had spotted just over a month earlier at the specific shop in the even more specific part of London.

Sherlock stepped up behind John and placed his hands on his shoulders, offering warmth as he leaned into John. "You are right John. I do spoil Rosie, and I do it out of love for her. The same goes for my brother and my parents. But it seems that I have forgotten to spoil the one person I love the most in all of this world, and for that John, I am very sorry." A tender kiss was placed on John's temple. "Never be afraid to ask for things when around me John. It pains me to see you deny yourself the things you so clearly deserve."

John's shoulder gave a brief tremble. "But I don't-"

The hands on his shoulders moved to embrace him. "Yes John, you do." Another kiss was placed on his temple. "My beloved John. Always working, always thinking of others before thinking of yourself. You felt guilty and selfish for wanting these things, didn't you? You thought you were a bad father for wanting to spend money on yourself instead of Rosie." At this, John turned sharply to look at Sherlock, who couldn't hold back a tiny scoff. "I may not be an expert on emotions, but I do think I have become better at reading you over the years my dear Watson. Your facial expression back at that shop told me everything, and although you may have forgotten about that incident I didn't. So here we are. Do you like them as much still as you did back then? I still have the receipt should you want the bag in a different shade."

"Sherlock." John's hands fisted in Sherlock's shirt, squeezing tight to stop them from trembling. And Sherlock, lovely Sherlock, understood.

"It's alright John. It's alright." This time a kiss was placed on his head. "I know that receiving doesn't come easily to you, but I beg of you to never feel guilty for receiving a gift from me. Doing this for you brings me such joy John. So will you please accept my gift and promise me to try and not beat yourself up for it later?"

"I will." A nod into Sherlock's shirt accompanied Johns' answer before he finally lifted his head to look at his beloved genius of a partner. Unfisting his hands he brought them up to said genius' face, holding it as if it was made of precious china. "Thank you, Sherlock. I will receive your gift, but only if you will allow me to spoil you in return. Things have to go both ways in a relationship, you know."

Sherlock gave a happy grin and then steered his gaze over to the box still in John's chair. His face took on a bashful look and he suddenly refused to look at John, who grinned at the detective's pink cheeks. "Sherlock. What have you done?"

Sherlock was suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "I may have bought a third gift and I am wondering if saying that it is partly for me as well will make you feel better or worse."

John turned his head to the box and stepped over to it, carefully lifting out the bag and journal to reveal a camera and a weird looking plastic box underneath. Now, John may not be an expert on cameras, but he was no idiot either. Even he could see that this was a system camera, which was probably meant for a professional with their own studio and not two amateurs in a flat with a baby who has a tendency to throw everything she gets her hands on. Picking it up and turning it over in his hands, John turned back to Sherlock. "Why the camera Sherlock? I don't remember ever looking sad while in a photo-studio."

"Like I said, it is partly for me as well." Taking the camera from John, Sherlock turned it on and surprised him by suddenly kneeling down on the floor.

Where he snapped a picture of a very surprised and intrigued Rosie.

Standing back up, Sherlock looked down on the camera display with a small wistful smile on his lips. Slightly concerned now, John put a hand on Sherlock's. Still, he was beginning to understand why the camera had found its way into 221B. He just had to be sure. "Why the camera Sherlock?"

"She is growing up right in front of our eyes. She learns something new every day and she will be all grown up before we know it. I know we have our phones, but I just thought it would be nice to be able to take proper photos so we never forget anything important. There is a photo-printer in there as well so you can put them in your journals. We could give some to Mrs. Hudson too." A pleading look was directed at John before he handed over the camera. "I don't ever want to forget a single moment spent with you and Rosie."

"Come here, you wonderful idiot." John brought Sherlock into a tight hug while Rosie babbled happily on the floor. "I love you, Sherlock. And Rosie loves you just as much as you love her. She will forget these times like all babies do, but we won't because we are her parents. And yes, I know that you two aren't related by blood but I have told you before that you are no less of a parent than I am and I will have Mycroft send over adoption papers as soon as tomorrow if that is what it takes for you to understand that. Thank you for this Sherlock. I love you."

"I love you too my dear blogger." Sherlock broke the embrace to kneel down and lift Rosie, poking her on the nose when she tugged on his curls. "And I love you too, my spoiled little Miss Watson."

John couldn't imagine that anyone could be happier than him in that moment.

 

It was later that night, after he had put Rosie to bed and Sherlock was once again busy with his experiments, that he finally got a moment to inspect his gifts closer. He stroked the fine leather of his bag as he packed it for work. He placed the camera and printer neatly on the table next to his laptop, after sneaking a picture of Sherlock of course. Finally, he picked up the journal, and after sitting with it in his lap for a moment he picked up a pen and begun to write.

 

_Today, I got a gift._


End file.
